


The Killer of Malachite Road

by DESTIELforever67



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Serial Killers, Hitchhiking, I literally wrote this in ten minutes, M/M, Serial Killers, i dont know what this even is, killers, sorta - Freeform, sorta destiel, yeah - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-05
Updated: 2016-12-05
Packaged: 2018-09-06 17:18:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8762083
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DESTIELforever67/pseuds/DESTIELforever67
Summary: Dean has the intention to kill the hitchhiker with blue eyes that he picks up. What he doesn't know is that the man also wants to kill him.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I don't even know what this is. I don't usually write stuff like this, but the idea popped up in my head and I wrote it.

Sure, he was a bad person. Maybe he was a sinner, but then again, who exactly was a saint? He glanced down to the knife wedged between the door and the seat he was sitting on. He smirked, knowing the stories behind the metal object. All of the murders. 

 

This road frequently got hitchhikers, and he could easily pick up a victim. 

 

Dean was known as a serial killer--The Killer of Malachite Road--but all he was, was a normal guy with a hobby a little different than everyone else’s. Some people collected coins or stamps; he killed. It was part of who he was. No one knew, and he would never get caught. Even his little brother lived in fear of The Killer of Malachite Road. Sam thought it was some guy in a crappy car with a long, grey beard. He would never know it was his older brother. 

 

But tonight, he wasn’t in his territory. No one would even guess who he was. 

 

He drummed Metallica on the leather wrapped steering wheel of a car he stole a few miles back. He smiled as he saw the thumb of a hitchhiker sticking out in the road. The man walked slowly and held a grey duffle bag. He slowed down, and came to a stop next to the man. 

 

He rolled down the window so he could speak to the hitchhiker. 

 

There was no moonlight. The clouds blocked out any hint of outer space, and the only light came from the dull headlights. The road stretched for a few miles, woods surrounding the asphalt. The hitchhikers here were going long distance, but it was a hot spot no doubt. Cold air kissed both of the men’s faces. 

 

“You need a ride, buddy?” Dean questioned. The hitchhiker's eyes looked a dark shade of blue, like a clear night sky. He knew that once light shone on them, they would be the brilliant color of oceans. 

 

“Yeah,” he responded. His voice was scratchy, like it had been through thousands of years of screaming. He’ll scream louder when Dean is slitting his throat. 

 

“Get in,” Dean offers, unlocking the passenger’s side door. The hitchhiker is quick to sit down. He shuts the door behind him. “What’s your name?” 

 

He looks at Dean. “Castiel.” He looks to the road. Dean steps on the gas, starting to turn the trees into smudges of dark green quickly.

 

“Castiel, huh?” he asks, glancing back down at the hidden blade. “Cool name.” He looks back up at the road. The yellow, worn down dashes on the street pass in a blur. “Where are you heading, Cas?” 

 

“No place you’ll ever live to see.” As quick as the passing trees, a knife is pressed on Dean’s throat. It threatens to cut through the skin. Dean slams on the brakes, the knife tearing at the tender skin on his neck. 

 

Dean looked shocked, but not as shocked as a normal person would be. His hand starts inching to the hidden knife. The wood has never felt so good on his palm. He pulls the knife up. “If you are going to kill me, I have to warn you…” 

 

“Warn me of what?” Castiel inquires. He squints his eyes in slight confusion. 

 

“Ever heard of The Killer of Malachite Road?” Dean questions. 

 

“He’s the most wanted man in America; of course I’ve heard of him.” Cas tilts his head. “What is this about? Are you trying to stall? Think of an escape plan? Well guess what? You’ll never get away from me. Don’t even try.” 

 

Dean holds up the knife. “I wasn’t stalling. I was just wondering if you had heard about me.” 

 

Cas’ face has hints of realization, but he is trying to keep his calm. “I doubt that.” 

 

“Really?” Dean asks, dropping his knife on the ground of the car. “Take that knife off of my neck and I’ll prove it.” 

 

Castiel reluctantly removes the knife from the threatening position it was in. 

 

They sit in the car, staring at eachother. “The first victim I killed was named Jo. I was a teenager but I still got away with it. Then I killed her grieving mom. I killed people with the names of Kevin, Charlie, and Lisa. They were my friends. I got bored one night. They didn’t even like me, anyway. I think I’ve killed over two hundred people in total.”

 

“Even I knew that. There is the Internet,” Castiel reminds. His breathing is a little quicker than normal, and his heart must be beating fast, like the thumps of marathon runner. 

 

“Not about Kevin, Charlie, and Lisa.” Dean reaches into the backseat to a backpack. Cas puts up a knife, taking a defensive stance. “Oh get over it.” He unzips it and pulls out a few locks of hair. “Here are some of my tokens.” 

 

“I won’t kill you if you don’t kill me,” Cas offers frantically. He seems scared. 

 

“We can do better than that. How ‘bout we kill a cute little blonde. There is a diner a few miles up.”

 

“Let’s do it.”

**Author's Note:**

> yeah....


End file.
